


Old dogs, old tricks

by bbb136



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: AU - Graves is Graves, Accidental Plot, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Multi, Post-Movie 1: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Respectful characterisations, Slow Burn, Spoilers, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 17:18:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8676049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbb136/pseuds/bbb136
Summary: For Graves, life is about keeping control. Making sure his city stays in check, making sure his Aurors stay in check, and removing anyone who would threaten the peace that they worked so hard to save.For Newt, life was about stepping forward and not looking back.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have no business writing anything right now I have too much work to do and I'm extremely behind on everything BUT I really like this ship and I want to add to the fic pile so I basically gave in and told myself I could put off my dissertation as long as I finished this thing over the weekend and voila! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)

It was a dark morning. Despite the dawning of a new year winter was adamantly refusing to leave New York, the air was cold and dry, weak rays of sunlight beginning to pierce the chill but moving far too slowly to make Graves’ walk to work anything other than uncomfortable. 

 

He lived three streets away from the MUCUSA headquarters, close enough that he occasionally forgoed Apparating in if there wasn’t something urgent that needed his attention. Graves liked to use the walk as an opportunity to mull over his thoughts, the act of doing something utterly monotonous putting a complicated problem in sharp relief. 

 

Graves was doing that today when he heard someone scream.

 

He swerved on his heel with his wand out, but he relaxed once he saw where the cry had came from.

 

Across the street from him, a mere ten feet away, a No-Maj alpha was raging usefully, bucking at the arms of the two burly No-Maj betas who had obviously jumped in the split-second the alpha had lost it. 

 

The feral alpha’s victim lay crumpled on the sidewalk, clutching his bloodied face with shaky hands and groaning piteously. Another No-Maj alpha, who probably offered offence to the wrong person.

 

Despite it being New York, the city of constant movement, a small crowd of onlookers was forming. One of them stepped forward to take a closer look, then turned and shouted for a doctor.

 

Graves watched the No-Majs scurry about for a moment. Then he put his wand back into his pocket and walked away, vanishing with a crack that the No-Maj crowd failed to hear.

 

* * *

 

 

The position of Director of Magical Security came with certain privileges, an example of one being that Graves could skip the whispers in the lobby and Apparate directly into his office.

 

He removed his coat and dropped it over the back of his chair, welcoming the warmth. He settled behind his desk with a muted sigh, looked quietly at everything for a moment, then flicked his fingers to open his office door. 

 

The two Junior Aurors outside still jumped, even though this was the third time Graves had done this with them this week alone.

 

“Was it a productive night?” Graves asked.

 

They stumbled in: Westeve and Jackson. The last two Junior Aurors to be promoted to full auror status, both of them on night patrols until they did.

 

Unexpectedly Westeve said, “We tracked the daughter down.” 

 

Graves looked up - there’d been no word on her whereabouts for weeks. “Where is she?”

 

“She’s holed up in an empty warehouse, east of here.”

 

“We left Ramez to guard her but she’s not moving anytime soon. She was crying when we left. Our bet is that the memories have come back now.” Jackson added. 

 

Graves nodded slowly. 

 

He looked down at the report that lay on his desk. This would have to wait.

 

“This is the first time either of you have ever been sent out to deal with this kind of case.” Graves said, standing up and pulling his coat on in one smooth movement. “I doubt either of you have seen this kind of thing happen in real life.” Their silence confirmed this. “Listen closely. I’m only going to warn you once. What you’re about to do is extremely dangerous. It’s unlike anything you’ve done before. Make a mistake, fail to keep your tone in check, and you put everyone at risk.”

 

Graves walked out from behind his desk and stopped in the gap that Westeve and Jackson had left between them. 

 

He’s close enough that he can feel it when their scent changes, turning so rigid that the air practically wavered.

 

“ _Don’t_.” Graves said, his voice a whisper. “Don’t… make the mistake of thinking this will be anything like a No-Maj. Because if you do that, you will die.”

 

* * *

 

A murmured incantation summoned two members of his first team to him; Larington and Kave. 

 

Graves could handle this alone but Westeve and Jackson definitely couldn’t and on their first trip out he wanted to make sure they didn’t come back in pieces, so, babysitters it was. He could trust Larington and Kave to not lose their heads and he explained the situation to them with a single word.

 

“ _Rogue_.”

 

They flanked him and together they all stormed out of the MUCUSA, people scattering out of their way like startled birds. 

 

Graves led them to the edge of the MUCUSA limits and then he looked back at Westeve, who said, “Warehouse, thirty-third Street.” 

 

Graves Apparated into the warehouse first, the others joining him in whirls of black smoke seconds later. They hurried to catch up with him, no one drawing their wand, and Graves hushed the noise of their footsteps with the tiniest flick of a finger. 

 

Ramez was waiting outside the doorway of a room near the back, an office off the factory floor. She straightened up and nodded respectfully to Graves. 

 

“Jackie’s being quiet now,” Ramez said, keeping her voice down low even though Graves could detect the Silencing charm in the space around them. “She’s showed no signs of aggression, just a lot of crying.”

 

Graves looked into the room. At the far end was a girl, eighteen years old and covered in dirt. She was curled up in the corner with her head buried in her arms, shaking like a leaf. 

 

“Wand?” He asked. Ramez shook her head. “We approach this slowly. No one makes a move until I say.”

 

Behind him Westeve and Jackson were doing a poor job of hiding their fear. It seeped out of them, turning the air sour. Graves was strong enough to cover it but at this rate he would not be clearing them for advancement. 

 

An unstable Auror was a bomb waiting to go off. 

 

Graves breathed in.  

 

“Three, two…”

 

* * *

 

.

_Old Dogs, Old Tricks._

_._

 

* * *

 

For all it lacked the bigger magical breeds, New York truly was an interesting place. Definitely a lot less green than some cities Newt had been to but for all the grey brick and slate and sky, New York _thrived_ with life, it poured out of every corner and crevice and flooded the streets with a billion little details. Newt waded through them every day and marvelled just as much as he had the first time he'd stepped off the boat.

 

Perhaps it was the bustling life that made it all so heady. Newt had never quite gotten people, they always seemed to move on a different plane to him (although of course, there were exceptions to this). Creatures he liked a lot better, and even as he watched the entertaining sight of the baker’s beta boy making eyes at the tall beta girl standing near his cart, Newt thought longingly of returning home to London. 

 

Newt had sent his finished manuscript off two months earlier so strictly speaking he no longer had any reason to wander about the world, as the numerous letters he got sent each week were wont to remind him, yet he held firm on his decision to extend his stay in New York until the Spring came.

 

At least here, Newt could be alone for a little while longer.

 

“Hello.” Newt smiled at Callin, the MUCUSA’s doorman. He hoped he didn’t look too shabby today; Callin had a habit of barring him if it was too obvious he’d spent the night cleaning out feeding pens. “Here to see Tina.” 

 

Callin gave Newt a speculative look-over and nodded grudgingly. He held the door open and beckoned Newt through it.

 

The funny thing about stepping through a charmed doorway was that for a split-second, all the colours of the world were thrown into a bright haze. At first glance the MUCUSA was always a mess of brown and black.

 

Newt had noticed that most American wizards seemed to favour dark colours. Even Tina wore a navy jacket. It was the kind of detail Newt wouldn’t mind having explained to him only he’d learned from his travels that a lot of the questions he thought were perfectly innocent actually had very different connotations to the locals, so if in doubt, smile and say nothing. 

 

Newt had walked through the MUCUSA enough times that he was starting to recognise people, and they recognised him back. Although he supposed a British wizard in a bright blue coat was probably distinctive enough to be remembered on that basis alone, say nothing of his dynamic. (For all American wizards claimed to not care, they all still stared. Newt knew he was old but _really_. It made him dread returning home.)

 

He went to meet Tina at the office where she’d first thrown open his case; the wide, open one with the poor lights and creaking pipes.

 

She was sitting at her desk near the back, both hands in her hair as she tried to make sense of the pile of documents in front of her. His footsteps alerted her to his arrival.

 

“Hey, Newt…” Tina said faintly, pulling her head up to smile at him. 

 

“Busy morning?” Newt asked. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the shrunken stack of bakery treats he’d bought earlier. Tina’s smile grew at the sight of them. “Shall I do the honours?”

 

Tina nodded gratefully and Newt pulled out his wand. He restored the pastries to their normal size with a muttered incantation and settled them on desk, pushing the plate towards Tina with awkward hand motions.

 

They ate quietly for a few minutes.

 

“Graves hates me.” Tina said suddenly, frosting on her upper lip. “He’s making me check all the reports filed in the past year for inaccuracies. He hasn’t said anything about returning to active service.”

 

“I’m assuming someone has to check the reports though. Sounds important.” Newt said, his mouth full of pastry. 

 

Tina shot him a disbelieving look. “But not me! I want to be out there, doing things. Helping people. Not-” She looked at her cluttered desk and her eyes went dark. “This… _stuff_.”

 

Newt went very still. Tina’s eyes snapped to him and she looked ashamed.

 

“I’m sorry.” She said, shrinking into her chair, embarrassed. “That was inappropriate. I’m sorry, I’ve just been looking at small writing all day. It’s all very frustrating.”

 

Relaxing, Newt took another bite of his pastry. “Not a problem.” He said, quirking his lips. “I can see why you’re upset.” 

 

Tina picked up a quill and tapped it against the desk. “The really frustrating thing…” She starts. “Is that a year ago, I was a lot better than this. I made Auror so quickly, I think Graves was actually impressed with me…. But… I lose control once…”

 

Tina made a wand-slashing gesture and sank back into her chair with a sigh.

 

“Hard to regain confidence, I suppose.” Newt offered quietly.

 

She nodded. “It’s not just that though. Graves doesn’t let any alphas make Auror if they don’t have perfect control. Now that I’ve been demoted it’s going to be so hard to fight my way back and I don’t think Graves even wants to give me a chance to try.”

 

“Surely… after everything…” Newt said.

 

“Yeah, well, as it turns out helping capture the most wanted wizard in the world doesn’t actually mean you get promoted.” Tina picked up another pastry. “Not in Graves’ world. As long as Madam Picquery agrees with him, which she always does, Graves can do what he likes. And Grindelwald managing to hide within our ranks has made him more paranoid than normal.”

 

Newt chewed his lip.

 

“At least that last part I can understand.” He said eventually.

 

“How kind of you to say.” Graves’ voice cut through the warm atmosphere like a knife. 

 

Tina shot out of her seat, her face a picture of abject panic. 

 

“Mr Graves! Sir!” Tina’s desperate attempt to sound calm was completely undermined by her souring scent. Newt tried his best not to wrinkle his nose at it. “I didn’t hear you - we were just-”

 

Tina abruptly went silent. Newt finally turned and peered over his chair, and saw that Graves had raised a single hand and was shaking his head slowly.

 

“You’re just further proving my point.” Graves told her.

 

The scared scent suddenly vanished. 

 

Newt blinked. _What on earth -_

 

With an ease that could only be deliberate, Graves walked forward and stopped in front of Tina. (The material of his coat brushed Newt’s elbow.) “If you aren’t fit to serve, Ms Goldstein.” Grave said, his voice light and reminiscent of a stalking tiger. “You will not serve. I won’t have undisciplined Aurors under my command.”

 

Graves’ gaze flickered down to the pastries, then to Newt, before going back to Tina.

 

“Try not to waste all your time eating, Ms Goldstein. I’m sending you two helpers but they’re only be able to start on Monday. You’ll have to work hard till then.” 

 

The man strode away. 

 

The distant thud of the door signalled his exit and Tina collapsed back into her chair. She put her hands over her eyes and groaned.

 

Newt sat in sympathetic silence for a little while until, awkwardly, he offered, “I’m sure he’ll forget about it in a few days.”

 

Tina’s fingers parted so she could glare balefully at him. 

 

Newt wisely took the hint and picked up another pastry.

 

“How is Queenie doing?” He asked instead.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

They finished the food, or rather, Newt nibbled at some pastries while Tina slumped into her chair and flicked despondently through all the reports she had yet to read.

 

When Newt turned to leave, Tina put down her quill and said, “Please don’t do anything illegal until I finish my work,” with the kind of tired, yet utterly serious air that all governmental employees seemed to work around them like a particularly barbed form of a protective charm. 

 

Newt bashfully tapped his nose at her, which wasn’t an outright lie if you really thought about it.

 

He stepped outside and loitered in the hallway for a little while as he checked his watch and looked musingly at the ceiling, trying to figure out whether or not he had enough time to take his Jalamo for a stroll before it got dark. Ultimately he decided against it, thinking unhappily about the bitter cold that accompanied the nights here. 

 

Newt took the elevator up to the lobby and stepped out into a rush of noise and light; the MUCUSA was as busy as ever. He headed outside, stopping to thank Callin on the way. 

 

Stepping back into the muggle world was always interesting. (Others called it mundane but Newt disagreed.) Suddenly there was noise and light of a different kind. For all that muggles lived in a greyer world without magic, they tried to make up for it with all their strange, noisy inventions which rushed past at great speeds.

 

One such invention went directly past Newt, and the dirty smell made him cough. He cleared his throat and wiped at his eyes - maybe that wasn’t the kind of muggle invention he should admire.

 

Newt set off walking in a random direction, no aim in mind but the nearest alleyway or empty spot he could Disapparate in. After a few minutes he spotted a good one and was making a beeline for it when all of a sudden he felt a hand tug at the back of his coat. 

 

He spun around, and was faced with a poorly-dressed boy, not quite a man but near it, a muggle who had a red face and was breathing strangely. 

 

Newt peered at him. “Are you alright?” He asked, hoping that there weren’t any magical folk nearby because in America even asking that simple question could technically get you in trouble.

 

The boy didn’t answer. He stared at Newt with dark eyes, staring so intently that he listed slightly forwards. His skin gleamed - it was sweat, in freezing cold January - and his cheeks were rapidly growing in colour when they had been completely pale before. Newt cocked his head at the boy, confused but something nagging at the back of his mind.

 

Newt made the connection the split-second he noticed that the other muggles were backing away from them.

 

He froze. 

 

“Oh dear…” He said in a high-pitched voice, and then a cold feeling in his stomach told him to run.

 

Newt took a step back but it proved to be his own undoing - the boy yelled and lunged forwards. 

 

But the boy never made contact with Newt because Newt was suddenly sharply yanked backwards, the muggle alpha fading into far distance and dark walls springing up on either side until a hand seized the back of his coat and pulled Newt up onto his feet.

 

“Don’t move.” Graves said, eyes flashing in the poor light.

 

Startled, for a few seconds Newt actually obeyed. He watched Graves lean out of the alley he’d pulled Newt into and look down the street, the sounds of the muggle alpha’s pained snarls and screams faint but still going strong. The dark lines of his coat looked out of place alongside the peeling posters and overflowing bins.

 

Inevitably the world jerked back into real time and Newt fell back against the wall, clutching at his collar.

 

“I didn’t know you could use wand-less magic to move people around.” Newt said breathlessly.

 

Graves made a noncommittal sound, gaze still on the dramatic scene taking place on the street outside. He glanced back briefly and something about Newt made him frown. 

 

He said, “That was a No-Maj alpha coming into his own, they’re a lot louder about maturity than we are. You didn’t sense it because he was undefined before.”

 

Newt nodded his head, finally succeeding in loosening his bow-tie. “Yes, I know.”

 

“If you knew why did you hang around?” Graves asked him. 

 

“It took me a while to remember.” 

 

Newt moved forward to stand beside Graves and peered out of the alley himself.

 

Graves certainly had impressive reach. The muggle boy had been pinned down by two irate looking policeman at the opposite end of the street, at least thirty yards away. As the three muggles squabbled on the pavement, a lone policeman walked about and loudly demanded that the parents of the alpha child step forward and claim their son. 

 

“Muggles like using confinement for maturing…” Newt said off-handedly, distant memories of Muggle Studies rearing their heads, far too late to be properly helpful to him. He leaned out a bit further. “They’re not supposed to go outside if they’re that close.”

 

Now that he was out of danger Newt had to admit that the whole thing was mildly interesting to him. These things simply didn’t happen in the wizarding world, not with their potions and spells and the inbuilt sense of control that any magical child had to learn in order to control their powers. It was strange to watch an alpha turn violent and untameable, all because Newt happened to walk past him at the wrong time.

 

Graves tsked. “Perhaps you should take a little more care when you’re off exploring, Mr Scamander. You cause enough chaos as it is.” 

 

Newt turned to him with a frown. “I’m sorry, but this is hardly my fault.” He said. “And anyway, I would have been alright.”

 

“Really?” Graves gaze flickered up and down Newt. He shook his head dismissively. “I think you would benefit from a little less time spent with magical creatures and a little more time spent with your own kind. You have very strange ideas about what shouldn’t be considered dangerous.”

 

“I think the minute you start treating something like it’s dangerous you ensure that it will be.” Newt said softly. “I think you see too many dangerous things, Mr Graves. It’s made you think everything else will be just as bad.”

 

An honest comment, and one that Graves did not appear to know how to handle.

 

For a few seconds he simply stared, eyes narrowed, and then with excruciating slowness Graves stepped forwards, and came so close that his warm breath ghosted across Newt’s cheeks.

 

The sounds of the outside world faded away, and Newt, who tended to avoid conversation where he could, suddenly became aware of just how tall the alpha was. 

 

Graves studied him, and said, “Take care getting home, Mr Scamander.”

 

Graves turned and strode off.

 

Newt let go the breath he’d been holding, then hazarded a glance at the man’s back. He caught a glimpse of a splash of blood, streaked against the sides of the man’s shoes like he’d recently walked through a slaughter.

 

But Graves Disapparated away before Newt had the time to properly process it.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: Just want to clarify that I have no longer have any plans to add to this. Thank you for reading, it has been very encouraging to see a continuous stream of interest (and bizarre??? but okay!) but I'm afraid I moved away from this pairing now. Luckily for us, there have been a ton of fics written for this pairing now. Go enjoy!
> 
> P.S. Percival Graves is stupidly attractive in that coat and scarf get-up I can't believe WB wants to rob me of this bastard of a human being  
> P.S. talk to me on tumblr at wherethefuckisthatjigsawpiece


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